Abandon Ship
by Quadrillionaire
Summary: Voldemort's Horcruxes begin to question what their purpose is and where their loyalties lie.
1. Starting To Wonder

A/N: I know the Nagini Horcrux hasn't been created in this time period, but it didn't feel right without seven of 'em, so yeah… Semi-AU universe where Voldy created Nagini before he died…? Ah well. Screw minor details and enjoy the story.

Also, parseltongue will be written in **bold.**

** DISCLAIMER**s suck and I don't feel like doing one.

* * *

Tom Marvolo Riddle sat in the luxurious armchair, fingertips pressed together in the classic evil villain pose, brows furrowed, deep in thought.

The Tom Riddle to his left was absentmindedly flipping through a worn book.

One of the other Tom Riddles was Avada Kedavra-ing gnats.

Yes, it certainly was the epitome of awkwardness.

And boredom.

Another Tom sitting across the room cleared his throat, irritated.

"Yes?" six voices chorused back, making him grimace inwardly. Each varied slightly in tone and pitch, but it was undeniable that they had belonged to the same person. _At least at one point, anyways,_ he thought to himself.

"I'm bored," he snapped.

"No shit," the gnat killer replied, not pausing from his miniature genocide.

Before the other Tom could return an explosive reply, the Horcrux of Helga Hufflepuff's cup intervened.

"Well, that's completely understandable. We've been stuck here for… almost half a century, was it? It's no wonder you're bored. We could knit some scarves, or... play our three thousand and forty second game of chess…" he prattled on, hoping to distract the younger and more volatile Horcrux from another argument. (He really, _really_ didn't like arguments. Or hissy fits. Or bickering. He just didn't like fighting at all.)

So he couldn't help but blanch slightly when the Horcrux of Marvolo Gaunt's ring focused his temper on him instead.

"Chess? Knitting? And you call yourself a man?" he hissed, stomping on the floor rather childishly. "In the name of Merlin's flabby man tittes, you really are a Hufflepuff, aren't you?"

Hufflepuff Horcrux pouted. "Well, that really wasn't necessary –"

"I'd hate to agree with Ring, but he's got a point," insect murder (A.K.A. Ravenclaw's Diadem Horcrux) cut in. The Ring's triumphant smirk was slapped off his face when he added, "There are only so many tantrums he can take from losing chess games, Huffle. The last one was hilarious, but at this rate he'll have a heart attack or something."

**"Oh no, Raven. Don't go taking away our only source of real entertainment,"** Nagini Horcrux smirked in parseltongue, coiling his fingers around a transfigured snake.

Ring scowled. "You guys suck."

"We're wounded, darling," Raven said in mock hurt.

Ring felt a vein starting to throb.

And thus (very much to Huffle's dismay) the bickering continued.

Now, to explain the odd, very un-Voldemort like behaviors of the Horcruxes…

When Voldemort had taken it upon himself to go on killing spree for the quest of immortality, he did not fully take into account of the extremely delicate and sentimental value of the items he deemed worthy to safeguard his soul.

In other words, he didn't know that the items he used as Horcruxes would inevitably affect the personas of the Horcruxes themselves.

Of course, it wasn't like it was common knowledge. Most people who had split their souls would frantically find the deepest, darkest, most secret hidden crevasse to seal it, and almost never bothered visiting it unless it was in the utmost danger of some sort.

Some prime (and unknown to the wizarding world) examples of warped personas would be:

Herpo The Foul: One of the darkest wizards who had been believed to be the first to create a successful Horcrux – his had been the eye of the first ever basilisk he hatched himself. In result, the Horcrux was immune to basilisk poison (one of the few substances powerful enough to destroy it), and also had the ability to paralyze animate objects with direct eye contact.

Salazar Slytherin's great, great, great, uncle's mother-in-law: Her existence was rather insignificant with the exception of the invention of the Bat-Bogey Hex – hers was a Kneazle's claw. In result, the Horcrux was very feline in attitude, had the useful ability of being able to detect distrustful individuals, and developed a fetish for cat nip.

Nicholas Flamel: He had developed the Philosopher's Stone and the Elixir of Life, which granted immortality – his had been, interestingly, the Philosopher Stone itself. In result, the Horcrux was filled with intricate wisdom and suffered from clinical depression (reason unknown).

So as you can see, Marvolo Gaunt's ring had belonged to an exceedingly short tempered, rude, and slightly mentally unstable man, resulting in this Horcrux to be on the borderline of a total douchebag.

Helga Hufflepuff was a kind, simple, and if not timid, the classical grandmotherly type of character. Therefore, the Hufflepuff Tom Riddle also found enjoyment in knitting sweaters and coddling cute things.

Then there's Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem.

Alongside being highly intellectual, she also was, to put plainly, a very bitchy woman. That said, her creation passed along the traits of sarcasm, snarkiness, and condescending mannerisms as a side dish to the whole being-a-genius thing.

The Nagini Horcrux was oddly enough, a living thing, therefore it took even more of the qualities of the snake itself. Not only did the Nagini Horcrux possess very serpent-like charisma, among other gifts he had the ability to see through heat waves and was a permanent parselmouth, unable to speak the human tongue.

Tom Riddle's diary was the original and had deep sentimental ties with Voldemort himself, allowing him to be an exact carbon copy of the Dark Lord during his teenage years.

Now, explanations finished, attention back to the bickering.

"…stupid! Prats! Idiots! Mudbloods!" Ring Horcrux shouted.

"Really, now. 'Mudbloods'?" Raven scoffed, "I've heard the Goyles make more original insults, and they aren't exactly the quickest wand in the draw."

**"You know, since we're all pieces of the same soul, you're pretty much insulting yourself,"** Nagini Horcrux added helpfully.

"Still, he might actually have a real point for once," Raven said, ignoring an indignant looking Ring. "It _does_ get boring in here after a few decades."

The seven Tom Riddles lived in a vast hall that worked similarly to the Room of Requirement, allowing them to summon almost anything they desired.

But not enough to keep seven intelligent minds satisfied.

Harry's Scar Horcrux joined in the conversation.

"Well, Tom seems to know the way out," he said, the Diary Horcrux having the privilege of keeping its original name. "We could ask him."

Nagini shook his head. **"No. I tried once. The only thing I got out of him was that he was going around seducing eleven year old girls."**

"At least we aren't missing out on much," Raven offered.

"What? He can't do that!" Harry's Scar Horcrux gasped, horrified at Tom's pedophilic hobbies.

Nagini rolled his eyes. **"Ugh. Stop that self-righteous grovel. It's disgusting to see what it looks like coming out of someone with my face."** Before Scar Horcrux could open his mouth to retaliate, Nagini pressed on. **"Besides, it's not like he's doing it for fun. I've heard the girl was an annoyingly intolerable whiner,"**he paused thinking. **"Annoying, but… **_**useful**_**."**

"Wait, what do you mean by 'useful'?" Scar Horcrux interrogated, not liking Nagini's tone.

Nagini bit back a smirk as he raised his eyebrows, as if amused. **"Well, obviously he isn't befriending her for the hell of it. So think, Scar, why would Tom endure the torture of listening to the woes of an angst-riddled brat, becoming her sole companion, an emotional crutch?"**

"But that would mean…" The other's eyes widened comically in realization. "But… but… that's awful! He's draining her life force! We've got to stop him!"

"Stop who?"

Five heads turned to the new voice as the Diary Horcrux slipped through the doorway inaccessible to the rest.

Scar immediately pounced.

"Stop _you,_ Tom. What are you thinking, doing that to a defenseless girl!" he snapped.

"Oh, please," Tom purred, "we have a fine little system worked out between us. I lend her honest, sincere friendship, and she, in return, gives me just a fraction of her soul." He settled down comfortably in a chair, sighing contently. "Now I would say I'm being rather generous on my half of the deal."

"That's just rich. And what happens what you take more than she's able to offer?"

"All true relationships have sacrifices, Scar."

"Though the relationship is more parasitic in this case."

Tom's eyes narrowed dangerously for a moment, but it was so quickly traded with a look of condescension that it almost went unnoticed.

Almost.

"Calm down, for Merlin's sake," Raven said lightly, trying to quietly disperse the start of a full blown argument. Unlike Ring, Tom's temper wasn't all that fun to mess with. "So," he continued, "how's life like on the other side of the door, Tommy boy?"

The pet naming was a privilege tolerated only from Raven and Nagini, for reasons unknown. Of course, it didn't save Raven from a piercing glare, but he was satisfied in knowing it could have been much worse for anyone else who tried it.

Tom paused, and his face melted into something not quite content, but very close to it.

"It was… nice."

He closed his eyes and leaned back.

Ring (who had been sulking up to that point) furrowed his eyebrows together, slightly put off.

Tom Ridde the Diary Horcrux was simply an unpleasant person.

Tom had no reason to keep up his polite schoolboy illusion in a room filled with nobody but other versions of himself, and was pretty much the personification of a teenage Dark Lord. Cold, cunning, and manipulative, in the forty-something years of their acquaintance Ring had never, ever seen him give a genuine smile.

Of course, none of them have ever genuinely smiled (Merlin forbid) with the exception of the poor Hufflepuff Horcrux.

But Tom had seemed to be the _least_ likely to give something close to the smile, again with the exception of Slytherin's Locket Horcrux (who was undeniably the most disturbing member of the clique).

And yet here he was, the corner of his lips lightly defying gravity and giving the usually unpleasant boy an almost pleasant atmosphere.

So one could only imagine what sort of wonders were on the other side of the door.

Ring wanted to know.

"Tom," he asked stubbornly, "what's so special about the other side?"

Tom didn't open his eyes, but merely replied with an amused, "I'm afraid you'll need to be a bit more specific."

Ring knitted his eyebrows closer together in concentration. "Fine. What do they have over there that we don't have in here?" he questioned, waving his arm to signify the hall that acted similarly to the Room of Requirement, an action that was totally lost on a close lidded Tom, but appropriately appreciated by everyone else.

When Tom didn't immediately answer, he continued.

"We have everything we need in here."

Tom lazily opened an eye.

"Oh? And how about everything we _want_?"

Ring frowned.

"What do you mean? We have everything we could want _and_ need. Likes games. And books. We have lots of high class furniture and…" he trailed off, irritated at feeling so unsure about the conversation. "Whatever. There's nothing on the other side that's better than what's in here, so what's the point?"

"I suppose you can't miss what you never had."

"What do you mean?"

Tom absentmindedly drummed his fingers on the side of the chair before simply answering, "Wind."

"…What?"

"Wind," Tom repeated quietly. "I suppose you've never felt it, have you?"

"Well, no," Ring answered. Not wanting to feel ignorant, he added, "but it's not like I would want to, anyways."

"What makes you say that?" the other asked.

"What makes you want it?" he retorted, mentally patting himself on the back for the quick reply.

All the other Horcruxes, excluding Slytherin's locket, were slightly leaning in, intrigued by the conversation taking place.

"I want it because I can't have it," Tom replied simply.

"The bloody hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Watch your tongue," the Diary Horcrux chided lightly, but something in his tone hinted otherwise.

Ring felt another wave of irritation crash into him, but he refrained from stomping on the floor and shouting some accusation about the genuinity of the other's intelligence, as he would have usually responded.

"Fine. Then…" he trailed off, trying to dish out a question that would receive a clear answer. True to his name, Tom almost always replied in riddles if he ever bothered answering at all. It was infuriating, but sometimes his twisted words explained things better than a straight out answer.

Unfortunately, a certain Horcrux was much too impatient to fiddle with secretive words.

"Um… what physical sensations are superior compared to those in this hall in quality and characteristics, and which traits and abilities specifically endear you to the other world?"

"Interestingly worded enough," Tom said with an amused smirk.

Without skipping a beat he continued, "Wind. Rain. Warmth. Cold. Sleeping. Eating. Tasting. Feeling. Smelling," After a moment of thought he added, "The luxuries of _l__iving._"

Ring frowned.

He had _awareness_ that those things existed; he had _memories_ of such things existing, but somewhere in the back of his head told him… it just wasn't the same.

Awareness...

Memories...

Memories that weren't really his.

Taking a nap in the shade of an oak tree on a sunny day.

A steady breeze that pulled the scent of wild flowers.

Crunching footsteps on an autumn day.

All of them illusions. False temptations. Twisted truths.

Lies.

He could feel that the rest were thinking somewhere along the same track.

It was probably all something Tom just made up for the fun. Bring up false hope, then send it crashing down for the entertainment of watching them crumble. He was surprisingly good at that.

Of course, Ring was probably the only one who believed in the face value of what Tom said anymore. It was probably the reason the disappointment stung the most, too.

But there was just something that told him it wasn't a complete lie.

"That does sound… nice," Hufflepuff's Cup Horcrux thought aloud, surprising everyone.

The six Horcruxes mulled this over.

"Nah. I don't think so," Raven finally said. "When there's warmth, there're burns. Along with the sensation of touch is pain. There's always a catch."

Tom's face returned to it unreadable mask, but there was a glint in his eye.

"Yes, but it's the risk that makes it fun."

* * *

**HEY. HEY. WANNA READ THIS LITTLE BIT DOWN HERE? **

Of course you don't.

Anyways, I was wondering if I should keep this as a one-shot or continue it. Should I? It kind of sounds like fun. But a real bother at the same time.

By the way, which Horcrux is your favorite? (I personally don't have one, yet.)


	2. An Accidental Slip

Two Months Ago

_"Oh, Master and Mistress would be so sad, so sad Master would especially be…" Kreacher mumbled as he curled in his nest-like bed under the stove, mirthlessly chewing on some molded bread._

_ He was a disappointment, a disgrace, a failure… _

_ Oh, the shame of it all…_

_ Kreacher glared hatefully at the locket Master Regulus had given to him, on his dying wish, to destroy._

_ To him! His responsibility! Master trusted him! _

_ And yet he couldn't do a thing. Such dark magic – Kreacher couldn't do it! 'Twasn't Kreacher's fault! He tried and tried and tried…_

_ "No!" the house elf scolded himself vehemently; there was no one else to blame. "All Kreacher's fault. All Kreacher's fault. ALL KREACHER'S FAULT!" he screeched, thrashing violently with years' worth of pent-up frustrations, not caring if he injured himself in the midst of his tantrum – No, he DESERVED punishment. He was a bad, bad house elf; a disobedient house elf._

_ Days and days of trying to accomplish his mission had driven the servant of the Black house into a maddening desperation. _

_See, House Elves were rather odd magical beings. The foreign magic they possessed easily rivaled that of wizards' – with or without wands. The only thing that kept them from being of equal standing was their natural instinct to yield to the point of servitude. They found no greater joy than in satisfying their masters' demands, and wizards in return extorted the House Elves' submissive nature. _

_Still, not all wizards were ignorant enough to overlook, ignore, or wave away the strengths of the odd creatures. Sadly, instead of understanding and treating their loyal workers with compassion and respect, wizards and witches feared the unknown powers and consequently bound House Elves into contracts and vows, forever sealing their extraordinary abilities._

_The declination of morality continued as the fine print of the dozens upon dozens of contacts and vows concluded in total dominance of not only the species actions, but their mentality as well. _

_Their natural duty to serve and the satisfaction of a job well done combined with the unnatural restraints of their own self-value lead to a House Elf with not only the ambition to serve, but an obsession._

_Simply said, a House Elf who cannot complete a direct order will eventually go mad._

_And so the sad fate had befallen Kreacher, who was forever faithful to the Black household, even in death. _

_ "Still, Kreacher cannot give up! No, he will not give up!" he sobbed angrily after several minutes, squirming from under the stove, dragging the locket behind him._

_ He placed the locket on the cool marble floor as he had done dozens of times before, and_

_ C-R-A-C-K_

_ unleashed the all powerful house elf magic he could muster._

_ To his dismay, the locket stayed tauntingly undamaged, while the flooring underneath and nearby was burned to a crisp with several large chunks missing._

_ "Once more… once more…" he muttered, a determined sheen in his bloodshot eyes._

_ HISSSSSSSS_

_ CRASH_

_ BANG_

_ CRUNCH_

_ SMASH_

_BAM_

_SLASH_

_ Nothing worked._

_ Nothing._

_ So many years, and yet there wasn't a single scratch._

_ Kreacher trembled in fury._

_ "KREACHER HATES YOU, HATES YOU, HATES YOU!" he hissed, his face contorted in loathing and madness._

_ And then…_

_ And then the locket did something it never did before._

_ It opened._

* * *

Marvolo Gaunt's ring Horcrux frowned as he held his knight, hovering over the chessboard hesitantly. It wasn't the game that was on his mind, though.

"Hey guys," he said slowly, "I've been thinking…"

"Well, that's a surprise," Raven drawled.

"Shut up."

**"Shhh…"** Nagini's Horcrux said while smoothing out the wrinkles in his shirt, silencing the Diadem Horcrux with an impatient wave of his hand. **"This is a once in a lifetime spectacle. We don't want to miss it."**

"You're right. Sorry." Raven solemnly nodded to Ring. "Please continue."

_Jerks. Morons. Prats. Pieces of unicorn dung,_ Ring seethed inwardly. Instead, he gritted his teeth and continued, "I. Was. Thinking. That. Maybe…" He took a breath and unlocked his jaws, which had become sore with the pressure.

"Maybe Tom was… you know…" Ring swallowed his pride and finished, "…right."

Scar Horcrux scowled.

"_Right?_ What the bloody hell is right about sucking the life out of an eleven year old girl?"

Ring made an irritated sound. "No. That's not what I'm talking about (though it _is_ pretty messed up once you think about it). I'm talking about the other side. The, uh, living world."

Helga Hufflepuff's cup Horcrux looked up from the opposite side of the chessboard, his face thoughtful. "You know, I was thinking about it, too."

"I thought you all didn't care for the other world. Everything we need is in here, if I remember correctly," Scar said, not in an accusatory or taunting tone. He was simply curious and slightly cautious at the change of heart.

Ring shrugged with a somewhat sulky annoyance.

"Well, Tom said–"

**"But** **you can't always trust in what 'Tom says',"** Nagini cut in.

"_I know,_" Ring snapped. "I know. But this time is different, and you guys know it too." He impatiently slammed his knight onto the board, taking out one of Huffle's bishops. "There's something different out there. Stuff we know about, but don't really _know_."

"Yeah. And that's how it's supposed to be," Scar replied. "All we know is that the purpose of our existence is to simply _exist_. Nothing else. There's no point in leaving." Although he was also curious, Scar knew that if they were to leave, they'd have to have a power source so they could walk among the living – namingly, another possible victim like the poor eleven year old girl Tom was possessing.

Unfortunately, Ring Horcrux didn't see it that way,

"Oh, so that's how it's gonna be, huh? Just gonna give up? Who gives a damn about the _purpose_? Who has the right to decide our purpose, anyways?" Ring spat angrily. "I'll decide it on my own, thanks."

Hufflepuff Horcrux unwisely took that moment to mumble something incoherently.

"WHAT?" Ring growled.

"Um…" Huffle shrunk back. "Ch-checkmate…"

The board was promptly flipped over.

* * *

If Tom was, in fact, capable of engaging outward self-indulgence, right then would have been the moment he would have grinned like the Weasley twins after a particularly glorious prank and let out a little celebratory dance.

However, as a Dark Lord, he would rather face insanity by the Crusiatus Curse then to demote himself to such a primitive level.

So he just settled for a victorious smirk that accompanied a malicious spark in his eyes.

"You certainly seemed to be satisfied," a pleasant voice noted.

Tom's smirk grew a fraction.

"I suppose you could say that."

Salazar Slytherin's Locket Horcrux stepped from out of the shadows, shaking his head. "Subtle manipulation, Riddle? You and your web of plans never cease to entertain me."

"I would hope not – that would certainly be a decline of my credibility."

After a moment Tom shifted his gaze from the noisy group of Horcruxes to his… _current_ ally.

"I've been meaning to congratulate the return of your sanity for quite some time, Locket. Apologies for not mentioning it earlier. As you know, I was rather busy."

"And I in return will graciously accept the barbed welcome. It couldn't be helped that Salazar Slytherin was an unstable character," Locket casually replied before growing thoughtful. "After all those years… Well, while it does have its benefits, I still can't discern whether I fully welcome an orderly mind. Not quite yet, anyways."

Tom raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me if I find that sentiment to be a bit odd."

"It's all right," Locket laughed. "I find that most sane people tend to share your opinion."

* * *

Two hours, forty three minutes, and several insulting matches later found five Horcruxes in front of the door Tom had elusively slipped through to escape to the other world.

"You know–"

_SLAM_

"–I'm pretty sure–"

_SLAM_

"–that there's–"

_SLAM_

"–a better–"

_SLAM_

"–way."

_SLAM_

**"No, no,"** Nagini said boredly, examining his nails. **"Let him continue. He might break through the door **_**any**_** minute now."**

"But this is a complete waste of time," Scar complained.

"I disagree. There's plenty of entertainment value," Raven supplied cheerfully.

Scar Horcrux let out a sound of exasperation. Why the hell was he always surrounded by idiots? _Well_, he mused, _I suppose it's better company than, let's say, someone without morals like Tom._

He took a glance at his companions and saw Hufflepuff Horcrux knitting socks.

He sighed.

Maybe he did need some new friends.

Said thought was interrupted when the door flew open and Ring suddenly went crashing through it.

It then slammed shut and locked with a finalizing click.

The four remaining Horcruxes stared in stunned silence.

"Well," Raven commented after a moment, "that was certainly unexpected."

* * *

"Ow!" Ring hissed as he suddenly fell through the door, only to be thrust from surprise to confusion to see he had sprawled on top of a girl.

She was rather scrawny, her face peppered with freckles and her hair a fiery red color that was only matched by the look of shocked fury on her face.

"_You_," she hissed as she roughly pushed him off her. "You _idiot_. Do you have any idea as to what you've done?" Her dark Hogwarts robes whipped angrily as she pulled up to her full height – an impressive 4'9".

"What do you mean, you bloody midget?" Ring snapped back, not very keen on being called an idiot. Especially by a kid.

Tom took a deep breath as he fought the urge to curse Ring into oblivion.

Tom Riddle was, after all, a calm and precise person. He chose his moves carefully, with cunning and brutal apathy. This and his natural genius allowed him to widen his boundaries and tighten his reign on the holds of power.

However, there was one slight miscalculation.

He had not expected the Ring Horcrux to be an idiot of such epic proportions.

Tom could almost see his months' worth of careful planning starting to unravel into so much dust, and while that was enough to make anyone very upset, it put a hormonal Dark Lord into a very, _very_ near apocalyptic mood.

And the worst part was that this all took place while he was in the body of an eleven year old girl.

For now, they'd have to escape before someone saw–

"Hey, Ginny!"

Well, fuck.

Tom closed his eyes and took another deep breath before turning around and grinning so hard his face hurt, his plastic smile not faltering even when he saw the unwelcome company was none other than the girl's notoriously stupid brother, Ron Weasley.

"Hi Ron!" Tom chirped, trying his best to imitate the small Gryffindor, all the while silently repeating_ CrucioCrucioCrucioCrucio..._

"Listen, brat. You need to explain what the hell is going on," Ring scowled as he grabbed her shoulder, causing Ron to frown and say something among the lines of 'Let go of my sister, you jerk!"

"Oh, it's okay, Ron. He's a _friend_," Tom said, silently motioning for Ring to play along.

"Well, if you're sure…" the older Weasley said, his gaze shifting suspiciously to the other Horcrux. "He doesn't look like a student, though. Who exactly is the bloke?"

"Oh, actually he's…" Tom started innocently before whipping out Ginny's wand and sending out a nonverbal stunning hex. The look of surprise and betrayal on the Weasley boy's face made him smirk. For a second he contemplated using the Killing Curse –the boy was an eyesore to the wizarding community– but unfortunately Unforgiveable Curses were easily tracked, and he wasn't looking for unnecessary attention. So he sent for a simple knocking out hex followed by a crisp "_Obliviate_."

Tom couldn't help but groan when another one of Potter's friends (Hermione, was it?) ambled by and had to be attacked and Obliviated. A simple Avada Kedavra would make life so much easier.

The Dark Lord stuck in a little girl then proceeded to levitate the two unconscious bodies into an empty classroom, erasing the memories of nearby paintings for extra caution.

Tom then stalked down the hallways darkly, Ring forced to follow behind like an indignant puppy.

He had no idea as they were walking away from the crime scene that the gears in Tom's mind were turning a mile a minute, shattering the perfected puzzle of plans and rearranging them to accept the Ring Horcrux's unplanned and early arrival.

Ring was short-tempered, rude, impulsive, and slightly stupid, but not a _complete_ moron. He could therefore note that the redhead was not someone he wanted to piss off at the moment, and wisely kept his mouth shut.

Oddly enough, the child seemed to know him. But that was impossible, considering he hadn't set foot in the real world since… Well. Since he was created.

And then it suddenly hit him.

Finally, finally, _finally_…

He was out!

He ran his hand though his hair and breathed in deeply, taking in the senses he had been deprived of for so many years.

Everything was so _new_. When he took in a breath, air flowed into his lungs, and it felt wonderful. But… weird. Oxygen flowed in and out, and it was an odd sensation for someone who had never had the need for it. Out in the real world, it seemed air was something necessary, and one could not go more than a few minutes without it, and it was really rather uncomfortable trying to _not_ breathe.

The second sensation was not as pleasant.

A dull throb began to settle around his left shoulder, where he had been repeatedly slamming against the door.

Pain was something he had not ever experienced, and after a minute of mulling over it, Ring decided he didn't particularly like pain very much. It was annoying.

The two pair of feet echoed slightly in the castle of Hogwarts, indicating how large the building was. Ring had also never heard such a thing as an echo, and it was a curious thing.

His eyes trailed on the stony walls of the castle walls, where portraits of various people would occasionally shout out as they passed by.

And then he saw something strange.

On the wall someone had written,

"_The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the heir, beware."_

Ring frowned. The words looked like they had been painted some time ago, but…

There was just something about it.

Something he didn't like.

"Hey, what's that?" he asked the girl.

Too deep in thought, or just blatantly ignoring him, she didn't respond, much to his irritation.

"Tell me," he snapped, stopping her short and totally forgetting about the two students she had easily taken down and the fact that he didn't have a wand.

"None of your concern," Tom replied sharply, eyes narrowing.

"Fine," Ring said, eyes narrowing in return. "Then who are you and how exactly do you know me?"

"That will all be explained later. You don't have much time," the girl/Dark Lord replied, his tense shoulders relaxing a fraction as he finished reestablishing his plans. Tom would have to work fast.

"Wait, what do you mean I don't have much time?" Ring asked, confused.

Ignoring him a second time, Tom called out, "Locket!"

With a loud crack, Slytherin's Locket Horcrux apparated in front of the pair, startling Ring.

"Yes, Riddle?"

"What? Locket, how are you… and you… You're _Tom_?" Ring cut in, finally putting the pieces together. He was wavering on the options of whether he should be creeped out, shocked, or amused that the Diary Horcrux was stuck in the body of a little girl.

Tom continued to ignore him.

"Change of plans, Locket. Take him to the Gaunt shack and then to 12 Grimmauld Place. You know what to do, and _do it quickly_."

With a brisk nod, Locket told hold of a protesting Ring and disappeared with a small pop.

* * *

Apparating sucked.

Said thought was his first opinion when Ring dry heaved into some bushes with Locket awkwardly patting his back in consolation.

"I suppose it isn't a very comfortable means of travel, but it is convenient, so…"

"That," Ring spat afterwards, "is a load of Nargle shit. We are never doing that again."

"I'm afraid we don't have a choice," Locket said apologetically, helping up the younger Horcrux.

"What do you mean?" the other replied warily.

"You, my friend, are a Horcrux–"

"No kidding."

"Please let me finish," Locket requested patiently as the two walked along the weed-ridden forest path.

After he decided that he wasn't going to be interrupted again, he continued.

"You are a Horcrux's conscious in the midst of reality – something that opposes several laws. You were not meant to exist in the physical world, and your presence is something of an anomaly. For every action taken place, energy must be taken or released, and there is an opposite reaction for every action." Locket paused for a minute. "In other words, you are in desperate need of a power source."

"Hm… sure. Whatever," Ring mused half-heartedly as he hungrily eyed the woods around him. Tom really was right. He had seen pictures of plants and trees before, but this was completely different. The earthy smell that accompanied fertile soil was almost intoxicating as he walked alongside Locket, and he wanted nothing more than to tell the other Horcrux to shut up and go exploring.

"…and therefore you will cease to exist," Locket finished.

It took a second for the words to process through Ring's brain, and he whipped his head to the side and chocked out, a single _"What?"_

"You weren't listening, were you," Locket sighed.

"No, I wasn't. But I am now."

"Well," Locket began again, "in short, your existence in the physical world needs to be powered by an outer source because you were simply not meant to be. Hence, you need a power source if you want to continue living."

"But… well… fine. How much time do I have?"

"That can be easily determined," Locket said lightly. "Lift up your arms."

Ring did, and he had a sharp intake.

His hands and forearms had become almost completely translucent, and he could barely make out the outline of them. He tried rubbing his hands together, but was only horrified to see that they passed through each other uselessly.

Locket stared passively. "I'd say you have a good fifteen minutes before you vanish completely."

"Shit. How am I gonna find a… a… _source_?"

"Starting here," Locket replied as the pair walked out of the forest. He pointed to a hut covered in vines and weeds. "The Gaunt shack. Where your physical Horcrux is currently residing, I believe." Wasting no more time than necessary, he continued, "Hurry and retrieve the ring. I'm afraid I won't be of much help here. You have the ability to pass through the powerful wards unharmed, and I'm not in the mood to trouble myself to get through them."

Although they weren't really his, the ghosts that haunted his memories associated with the Gaunt shack sent chills down his spine.

Ring swallowed, fidgeting. "I hate this place."

"Do you hate it enough to die?"

With that Ring remembered the gravity of the situation and hurried to the lonely shack.

Hidden beneath the layers of foliage, the shack almost seemed to collapse under the weight, and yet still managed to reek with a foul and malevolent air.

Trying not to pay too much attention to details –the memories were just too much– he hastily wrenched the knob, only to have pulled it out of the door. Ring cursed before violently kicking down the door itself, the rotting wood easily crumbling under the assault.

Dust billowed, making his eyes water and throat contract instantly.

Other than the thick layer of grime, it was pretty much how it was when…

_A dark haired young man cautiously walked up to the to the shack, shaking his head in disgust as he slipped through the door which had a snake nailed onto it, flapping as the door creaked shut._

_ So this was how the heirs of Slytherin lived; scrounging in poverty and instability, their blood lineage being the sole reason of keeping their heads lifted in ignorant pride._

_ Pathetic._

_ Tom Marvolo Riddle scowled at the lone madman sitting in a jutted rocking chair, his eyes carrying the glazed aftermath of years of inbreeding._

_ He lifted his wand and – _

Ring blinked, stumbling out of the flashaback.

Squinting, he ran to where he remembered hiding the ring and wrenched the floorboards that concealed a golden box. He refused to acknowledge the remnants of the hut and ran from the hovel, sprinting through the musty halls and old rooms.

When he stumbled out to Locket, the other Horcrux wordlessly nodded and firmly grabbed him, apparating once more.

* * *

Ring felt sick, but it was nothing compared to the nauseating sensation he went through after the first apparition.

The two had apparated into 12 Grimmauld Place, a large mansion like estate which was equally as disgusting as the Gaunt Shack, the only difference being size.

"What's next?" Ring mumbled as he grabbed his stomach, only to realize that his almost- invisible arm passed through instead of pressing against his abdomen. That probably wasn't a good sign.

"Now for the 'power source'. Or better known as your physical core," Locket answered as he climbed up the stairs, leaving dirt-tracked footsteps along the way.

"I-I have to possess someone?" Ring asked, alarmed.

"No. Not possess. Kill," Locket said, then laughed when he saw Ring lose what little color he had in his face. "Riddle expected you to be unwilling to do that, so he sent me here. You won't have to kill a human. There's a Boggart up in the attic," he explained.

"Oh."

The stairs were long and so the Locket Horcrux took that time to explain some more.

"You didn't drop the ring, did you?"

"No."

"Good. It needs to be with you as you kill the Boggart, so its life essence can be absorbed."

"Okay," Ring responded. After some thought, he asked, "Why were you able to apparate at Hogwarts? My memories tell me that there're wards that make it impossible."

"Riddle told me you were stupid, but I beg to differ. You're actually quite perspective," Locket complimented.

Ring bristled, but was too tired to comment.

"Anyways," he continued, "the physical core I used was a House Elf. When the Horcrux absorbs the life essence of a living thing, it also absorbs some of its characteristic and abilities. House Elves use a whole different sort of magic from wizards, and getting through heavily protected wards is one of the few convenient abilities I now possess. If you successfully kill the Boggart, you might be lucky enough to inherit its ability to transform into a person's worst fear," he finished, sounding a little envious.

Ring absorbed this information as the two finished climbing the stairs leading to attic.

He ignored the spider webs that curtained his face, and the damp chill that accompanied the fact that his entire body was now almost completely translucent, he didn't have a wand, and he was feeling as weak as ever.

There was not much time left.

With a gentlemanly bow, Locket opened the door leading to the attic, and smiled.

"Have fun."

* * *

**A/N: Hoho. So I actually continued.**

To be honest, I believe this chapter is a load of orangutan shit. Oh well.

Critiques, non-idiotic suggestions, and barbed compliments are received with open arms.


	3. Screw The Accident We're All Coming

"So," Raven said, tapping the side of his armchair.

"So."

"…How's it going over there?"

"I'm three feet away from you, Raven."

"A distance nonetheless."

Scar let out an irritated sound before rubbing his face in his hands.

It had been approximately one day, twenty two hours and fourteen minutes since Ring had disappeared through the door into the other side. During that time Raven had bullying withdrawal symptoms and was being a pain in the arse.

They had been keeping track of time on a newly transfigured grandfather clock that did its best to tick as obnoxiously loud as possible.

When Ring had been thrust through the door, all of them had wanted to immediately barrel though after him since they figured out the secret to opening the door was to pull instead of push (**"Simply**_** ingenious**_**," **Nagini had insisted). However, Scar Horcrux had some vague knowledge about physical core power sources from eavesdropping on Tom and Locket, and fortunately stopped the three other Horcruxes from a rampaging suicide mission.

Therefore, he stated that if Ring did not return within two days time, they would ONE BY ONE go through the door and find a physical core that was not a human or half-breed and return within the hour. Scar knew that this was incredibly risky – considering that Ring had not returned, it was more than likely that he wasn't able to find his way back, he had expired before he found a proper physical core, or whatever on the other side disabled him to the point of being unable to return…

…But enough of those sunshiny thoughts.

_Besides,_ Scar thought with a sigh, _it's not like they'd take no for an answer._

Scar would like to have said their stupidity was due to immaturity, but he knew it was something else. They had been stuck here for nearly half a century, and Tom's taunting was spurred forgotten memories that had been best untouched.

If one really thought about it, it almost seemed like Tom had done that on purpose.

Scar waved that thought away. After all, what could the Diary Horcrux ever gain from this?

"So," Raven began again, interrupting his thoughts.

"Shut up, Raven. Just shut up."

"Now someone's being a bit snappy… Is it that time of the month already?"

"Raven, I am one unicorn hair away from transfiguring some duct tape to plaster onto the disproportionately large hole you call a mouth."

"Dear Merlin – Is Scar the most righteous is threatening me? That unicorn hair must be really thin."

Scar stared at the clock.

One hour and fifteen minutes.

He just had to deal with this for an hour and fifteen minutes.

Still, Scar couldn't help but twitch his eye when Raven started poking his cheek.

Poke.

Poke.

Poke.

"_Raven_…"

A pause.

…Poke.

Poke.

Poke.

Poke.

Poke.

Poke.

PokePoke.

PokePokePoke.

POKEPOKEPOKEPOKEPOKE –

"ALL RIGHT. FOR FUCK'S SAKE, YOU CAN GO, RAVEN."

The Diadem Horcrux smiled smugly as he leaped from his chair, leaving a jealous looking Nagini and Huffle with a still-twitching Scar.

* * *

The woman pulled at her her wrists, causing her heavy shackles to shake and ring ironically like bells.

Her cage was grey and barren, with only a small hole allowing her the precious view of the wasteland she could now comfortably call home. The walls were yellowing and peeling in some places – years of bored inhabitants picking away at the rocky walls had taken its toll. Stains (mostly containing of a suspicious rusty red color) were splattered freely like paint. Food was scarce, and usually decayed beyond edibility, but beggars couldn't be choosers.

Yet she sat politely. Patiently. One could say almost eagerly.

"So you're back, are you?" she coughed, years of screaming madly evident in her damaged voice.

"Did you doubt me, my dear?"

"I thought you were a hallucination." She grinned, her rotting teeth decorating her smile. "You still could be."

"Oh come on now, Lestrange," the other replied. "I assure you, although my existence is highly improbable, it is not a hallucination. The idea rather offends me, actually."

She nodded, her usually glazed eyes now eerily intent.

"So, how have you been lately? The weather's rather nice for Azkaban today." _Translation: "How long before you keel over like a dying dog? Dementors having fun torturing someone else lately?"_

"Well enough," Bellatrix replied. "I'm finding it to be a bit to warm for my tastes, though." _Translation: "Suck it, bitch. I handled this shit for years."_

"Really? With a bit of proper food and fresh air, I'm sure you'd be up and about." _Translation: "You're fooling no one. I can help… That is, if you want it enough."_

"I won't be needing that. I don't know if you've heard, but when the Dark Lord rises again I'll be free. I was his best, his most loyal…" she trailed off, and Locket fought hard to bite back a smirk at the childish pride in her voice. Oh, the irony.

"Interesting theory you have there. But you won't be of much help to him in here."

Her eyes widened comically. "You know of him? You know of the Dark Lord?" Whatever self-composure she had previously was quickly washing away, a pattern Locket noticed that took place when the topic of conversation ever took a turn to her beloved Voldemort.

"Ah. Yes. I do know quite a lot about dear Voldy –"

With unexpected speed, she leapt to the bars of the cell like an animal, the impact creating a loud rattling that attracted the attention of several Dementors some distance away.

"You _dare_ speak the Lord's name with such impertinence! The likes of you should be – "

"Yes, yes. I deserve to have the Killing Curse set of me for my obvious lack of judgment," Locket said, almost boredly. Bellatrix Lestrange was actually decent company when she wasn't obsessing over Voldemort, but that was rare. Besides, the Dementors were beginning to crawl over and he needed to speed things up. "For that I sincerely apologize. You have my permission to set the Cruciatus Curse on me at some more convenient time."

She began to sputter something else about defiling the Dark Lord and whatnot, but he silenced her with a forceful raise of his hand.

"Now, to cut things short – either I break you out of here and we… _assist_ this awe-inspiring Dark Lord, or I leave you to the Dementors due to your problematic mental stability, or lack thereof." He eyed her, his expression giving nothing away. "Choose wisely."

And she did.

* * *

Scar stared blankly at The Door.

Huffle and Nagini had been able to restrain themselves for the hourly rotation. Just barely.

They left, looking like they wanted nothing else, like they were the last fledglings to escape the nest.

Still, there was a nagging presence at the back of his mind.

Because they weren't back.

Of course, he should have expected that, but…

Now it was his turn – and he wasn't sure if he wanted to go.

_Now you're just being stupid,_ he told himself. He and Nagini had spent a good five minutes in an intense rock-paper-scissors match to see who'd be going next.

He couldn't exactly explain it. It was like… well. If he stepped though The Door, there really was no going back. No erasing mistakes, or tossing over the chessboard Ring-style. It was going to be a gamble.

With some surprise, Scar realized that was the exact reason they all left. Living so long in the quiet, sheltered life when there was a whole world to explore… Of course they'd want to leave. There was nothing to lose but everything to gain.

Merlin. He hated how bloody sentimental he sounded like right then. Might as well stamp his musings on one of those Muggle Chinese fortune cookies or something. They'd sell like hot cakes.

Scar turned to the grandfather clock, which had begun ticking even louder, sensing that its time for its usefulness was coming to an end.

"I guess this is goodbye, then," he said, taking one last glance at what had been his home for the past half century.

And he went through the door.

* * *

Huffle sat quietly, smiling and petting his new friend, Mr. Rooster.

He sighed contently, fiddling with his new sunglasses. They were slightly uncomfortable, but didn't get in the way of his knitting or anything. He supposed he'd have to get used to it.

He looked up from his crocheting and eyes his companion with a thoughtful expression.

"You know, I never thought basilisks were so easy to kill."

* * *

**A/N: Yes, this was short but I was feeling butt-lazy.**

**For those who didn't recall, a rooster's crow is deadly to a basilisk. HOHOHO.**


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